


A Tail of Two Loners

by EmAndFandems



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Dogs, Fluff, Gen, Paperwork, oneshot so do Not ask for an update please and thank you
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-04
Updated: 2018-12-04
Packaged: 2019-09-07 05:11:43
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,584
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16847782
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/EmAndFandems/pseuds/EmAndFandems
Summary: Maria Hill won't admit to anyone that she's lonely, least of all herself. But what's in the woods could change things.





	A Tail of Two Loners

**Author's Note:**

> Words required: possible, wild, ingenuous.

Maria was too professional to groan while in the process of carrying out orders, but it was a close thing. It had been a long day, and this newest development was just another annoyance to add to the list. It wasn’t enough that she was stuck in some rural nowhere and sent after whatever alien-monster- _ thing  _ someone had reported hearing in the woods behind their house, of course; no, she had to be saddled with a bunch of rookies.

 

“You can’t be serious,” grumbled a younger officer behind her, and Maria made a mental note of his face to reprimand him later. If she was meant to analyze these recruits, she wasn’t going to go easy on them. Although at least they weren’t accompanying Fury himself. “Really?”

 

“Anything the director orders,” began someone else sternly, but whoever it was shut up when Maria held up a hand without looking back. God, what wouldn’t she give to have someone with more than five minutes’ experience at her side. Nat wouldn’t blather on like this.

 

Was that a sound? Amidst the noise this group made just by walking, it was impossible to tell. At another signal from Maria, the group paused to listen. Nothing… Nothing… And then a noise in the undergrowth.

 

The near-silence was definitely being disturbed by the rustling of leaves and something that might have been footsteps. Maria reached for her gun, resting her hand on the holster with one hand while radioing Fury with the other.

 

“Sir, we’ve got a  possible  encounter,” she told SHIELD in a whisper. “Please advise.”

 

The others weren’t so willing to wait for orders. Some of them had already drawn their weapons, against protocol, and Maria resisted rolling her eyes. Nothing they’d been sent to face would be dangerous enough to pose serious risk, or those in charge would never have chosen these amateurs. Why  _ she _ was here was the better question. Surely she had more value than as a babysitter.

 

There was no answer on SHIELD’s part. Maria lifted the radio to repeat herself but she didn’t have the time to even open her mouth. Whatever was on the other side of the greenery was bursting through, and she had to drop the radio to bring her gun up in time--

 

She didn’t shoot. It was… a dog? A large dog, dirty and unkempt. If it had ever been anyone’s pet, it must have been allowed to run  wild  for a month at least. It was almost unrecognizable as a dog. By the time her brain had processed what her eyes were telling her, someone else’s gun had gone off, and the dog was bolting away.

 

Maria spun around. “Who fired?” Awkward, guilty silence. She crossed her arms. “Whose shot was that?”

 

One of them raised her hand sheepishly. “Mine, ma’am. I apologize.”

 

“Next time don’t fire without provocation,” Maria said sharply. Really, she should be taking the agent’s name and number and all that, but they were all tired. She bent to pick up the dropped radio. “False alarm, sir.”

 

“Did you get visual on what was causing all this?” demanded Fury.

 

“Yeah, it’s a dog,” said Maria, too spent to bother making it a formal declaration. “Bringing this group back in now.”

 

***

 

Back at HQ, Maria stood next to Fury as he looked over some documents. “You sure it was just a dog? If we pulled that mission because of faulty intel, then--”

 

“What, you think I can’t tell a dog when I see one?” Maria rubbed her temples. A headache was blooming steadily. “That group might have driven me crazy, but it didn’t make me blind.”

 

“I’m not going to say sorry for assigning you to work with them, if that’s what you’re hoping for.”

 

“No,” she said. But wasn’t she? Maybe. “I didn’t expect you to.”

 

“Alright then.” Fury looked up at her from his seat. “Tomorrow you can go back and make sure there’s nothing else in the area causing problems. The fact that there’s a dog there doesn’t mean that’s the only thing there.”

 

“Yes, sir.” Maria tried not to let any sarcasm enter her tone, but she couldn’t pretend to be overjoyed at the promise of spending more time around untrained agents who talked more than… Well, more than they should.

 

“Alone,” he added, going back to his paperwork, and she felt her shoulders sag with relief.

 

“Good,” she said, and left.

 

***

 

Maria’s apartment was just as she had left it. As usual. One of the many, many perks of living on your own, as she always told herself. No one to mess up your stuff or move your things or eat your food.

 

Still, there was something a little melancholic about the total stillness of the place. The only sounds coming from her and the quiet humming of the fridge, the only voice her own. She didn’t want anyone sharing a living space with her, so there was no reason to get sad at the thought that there was no one to hear her say,  _ I’m home! _

 

“I’m home,” she said half-heartedly, tossing her keys onto the table. “What’s for dinner?”

 

No, she wasn’t lonely. She didn’t want to try dating or “put herself out there,” like Nat kept telling her to do. Maria didn’t even want to make new friends. She just felt like there was something… missing. Maybe. Whenever this feeling came up, she pushed it aside. It wasn’t important. Anyway, it was late. She had work in the morning.

 

***

 

Maria pushed a branch out of her way before it could hit her in the face. It snapped back into place behind her, but the rustling didn’t stop. She turned around and was almost knocked over by the unexpected appearance of the dog against her kneecaps.

 

“Hey, big guy,” she said, backing away. “Slow down, alright? I don’t know what kind of diseases you could be carrying. And I’m here on a mission. Are you the only one here?”

 

She wasn’t sure why she was talking to the dog like it could understand and reply, but honestly, hadn’t she seen weirder? Work at SHIELD long enough and you'd stop doubting the possibility of just about anything. She waited a second longer, just in case, and then sighed and turned back to her makeshift path.

 

“Don’t get in my way,” she said over her shoulder. “Shoo.”

 

After a few steps deeper into the woods, she turned around. The dog was still there. No, it wasn’t where she had left it. But it was the same distance it had been, so it must have been following her.

 

“I said shoo!” Maria repeated, waving one hand, almost helplessly. What was the protocol for being followed by a stray? A giant, dirty, woods-lurking stray at that. “Go on. Get back to whatever you were doing before I showed up.”

 

The dog looked at her with wide eyes, and she scowled. “It’s no use looking all  ingenuous at me like that. It’s not going to help you.”

 

Maria started to turn back again to continue the mission, but she stopped. There was nothing to suggest that there was anything but the dog here. Besides, wouldn’t it be easier to tell if there  _ was _ something here if the dog weren’t here? She ran a quick calculation of the benefit-to-risk ratio and decided it definitely worked out in the dog’s favor.

 

“Fine. C’mere. You got a collar under all that fur?” Maria beckoned the dog forward and it bounded toward her joyfully. She couldn’t help but to smile. “Yeah, yeah. Wish the agents at work were this happy to see me.”

 

She crouched and ran her fingers along its neck. No collar. No identifiable mark of ownership. Maybe it was chipped? But she didn’t know what kind of tech would be able to detect that. Besides, it could still be carrying some nasty germ. She should get the dog to a vet.

 

Maria stood up. “Looks like you’re coming with me. Well, you’ve been following me anyway. You going to follow me out of here?”

 

She put her hands on her hips and looked sternly at the dog, whose tongue was now sprawled out of its mouth. “No slobbering on the seat when we get to the car,” she said, and started walking.

 

At the edge of the woods, the dog hesitated. Maria patted her leg. “Come on, dog, let’s go.” It came, and she felt an absurd surge of pride as it followed her all the way to the SHIELD-issued vehicle. She opened the passenger door and felt ridiculous. What was she expecting it to do, get in the car and close the door behind itself? But she didn’t want to pick it up, covered as it was in muck and grime. Plus, it was a big dog. Sure, she  _ could _ lift it, but did she want to?

 

“Too much to hope for that you actually know what a car is,” she muttered, eyeing the dog out of the corner of her eye. It stared at her, panting. “Go on, get in.”

 

It did. She jumped. “Can you understand me?” Maria said, peering at it suspiciously. “If you turn out to be some kind of shape shifter and this is an elaborate prank, I’m shooting whoever you are in the foot, you hear?”

 

The dog didn’t respond. It also didn’t suddenly turn into anything else, which she took to be a good sign. “Whatever.” Maria shook her head and shut the passenger side door before getting into the driver’s seat. “So long as you don’t cover everything in drool. That might be hard to explain to Fury later.”

 

The first vet’s office she tried wasn’t open. The second wouldn’t take walk-ins. The third was booked solid through next week, and Maria didn’t feel like holding onto a possibly feral dog for that long could possibly be a good idea. The fourth attempt accepted them.

 

“You say you found her where?” asked the vet. It hadn’t occurred to Maria to think that the dog could be a female. The vet took out a stethoscope and started listening to the dog’s heartbeat. Or that’s what Maria assumed she was doing. She might be trained in first aid, but she had no clue about the first thing when it came to veterinary science.

 

“The woods out behind--”

 

“Oh! Yes, someone in the area reported a missing dog recently. They had a flier posted in the waiting room, I think. Would you mind popping out there again for a second to check?”

 

Maria fought back a wave of… what? Disappointment? Why? She went over to the bulletin board in the other room and scanned it for a MISSING DOG flier. There was only one. It had an address and phone number, but most importantly, a picture of a dog that didn’t look anything like this one. The dog Maria had found in the woods was a dark brown, and the one in the picture was a much blonder color. She returned to the vet, who was still performing the checkup.

 

“It’s not the same dog,” she said. “What do I do now?”

 

“Well, I haven’t found any ID chip, and there’s no collar. I’d keep an eye out for more posters, especially in the area, but if we haven’t seen anything after a few days I would say that she’s going to go to the pound.”

 

Maria frowned. “And where will she be staying for those few days?”

 

“Here. That is,” the vet added, “unless you’d like to take her with you? Just until we can find out if she has another owner.”

 

“No, no,” said Maria. “I couldn’t possibly. I’m always busy. Office job, you know how it is. And my apartment isn’t equipped to handle a dog, especially one this size. I’m not even sure of the policy for pets in the building.”

 

The vet-- Maria finally caught sight of her name tag, which read  _ Dr. Artair _ \-- smiled. “Okay, well, the offer remains open. We’ll hold onto her for now, though. Feel free to stop by at any time!”

 

Maria mumbled some polite goodbye and opened the examination room door to leave. The dog tried to jump down from the table to follow her again. “No, dog,” she said, exasperated. “Sorry.”

 

“That’s alright!” said Dr. Artair, who was now holding the dog in place. “Um, just go? I’m not sure how long I can hold her back, she’s a big girl…”

 

Maria hurried out. From behind her, she heard a bark, and something inside her twisted. She almost turned back, but she pictured Fury’s face if he heard she was slacking. She was supposed to be in the woods right now. She had to get back.

 

***

 

That night, lying in bed, Maria played back the day’s events in her head. After dropping off the dog at the vet, she’d confirmed that there was no other intruding lifeform in the woods. Whoever had reported something must have gotten a glimpse of the dog in the dark and made a wild accusation that had somehow made its way to SHIELD. She said as much to Fury when she got back; he’d nodded and dismissed her. The rest of the afternoon was paperwork and coffee, which made her lie to Dr. Artair much more accurate, and then it was the end of her shift and time for bed before she knew it.

 

The whole business with the dog was over. So why couldn’t she stop thinking about it?

 

For whatever reason, Maria kept picturing the dog lying in some cage at the vet, all on her own and wondering where Maria had gone. It felt absurd to guilt trip herself, but that’s exactly what she was doing. She hadn’t even given the dog a name. Which, granted, was because she might already have a name and an owner and a home. Still, Maria felt bad for calling her nothing but “dog” all day. She fell asleep brainstorming names. Her last conscious thought was,  _ No, not Spot, she doesn’t even have spots _ , and then she was out.

 

***

 

Her alarm woke her before she was ready to get up. Her head started pounding immediately and she groaned. Come to think of it, her head felt fuzzy and her stomach was queasy. She hoped she wasn’t coming down with anything. What if she’d picked something up from the dog?

 

Maria reached for her phone and punched in Fury’s number to call in sick. He was reluctant, but once she brought up the idea that she could have contracted some canine disease, he let her take the day off. So now what should she do?

 

Her first thought was to return to the vet and see how the dog was doing. She justified this by telling herself she was only going to find out if the dog had been carrying anything she could have passed on to Maria. She repeated this to herself as she drove over. She had nearly convinced herself by the time she got there.

 

“Hey!” said Dr. Artair. “You’re back! Why? Not that it isn’t great to see you, I mean, but…”

 

“I, uh,” Maria paused. “I was wondering if she’s healthy? The dog I brought in yesterday. Was she carrying anything transferable to humans?”

 

Dr. Artair looked at her, concerned. “Are you feeling alright?”

 

“I’m fine,” said Maria quickly. “Just wondering.”

 

“Well, our primary tests indicate that she’s in good health,” said Dr. Artair, and Maria smiled involuntarily. “So if you’ve been… hypothetically… under the weather, it probably wouldn’t be from her. Hypothetically, of course.”

 

“And there’s been no sign of anyone looking for her?”

 

Dr. Artair shook her head.

 

“Can I see her?” Maria wasn’t sure where the question had come from, but it was too late. Dr. Artair was already leading her to another room. As the door opened, a wave of noise was released, washing over the two of them and leaving them both blinking for a few seconds. It was a jumble of animal sounds, barking and meowing and chirping and… was that hissing? Every animal that could ever be conceivably kept as a pet seemed to be represented here.

 

Dr. Artair was clearly used to this; she recovered faster than Maria did, even with all her fancy SHIELD training. “Over here,” she said, and motioned for Maria to join her as she hurried past rows of animals. “Dogs are this aisle, and… yes, there she is!”

 

Maria approached slowly. “Hey, girl,” she said. The still-unnamed dog looked up as she came closer, and then she was trying to get to Maria, pressing up against the wire of the cage. Maria looked to Dr. Artair. “Could I take her out? On a walk. For a little while.”

 

“Sure!” The vet was beaming. “We love to get volunteers for a little enrichment! Makes my job easier, I’ll tell you that. And she clearly can’t wait to spend more time with you.”

 

Within fifteen minutes, Maria was holding the leash of this dog and taking her outside. Although the dog was pulling on her so hard it felt more like she was the one being taken out. “Slow down,” she said, and was surprised to discover that she was grinning.

 

The dog wagged her tail. Maria wondered aloud as they walked, “Do you have a name? Because if you don’t, I’m going to name you. They’ll let me do that, right? Seeing as I’m the one who brought you in. I think I should get dibs, assuming no one else comes to take you home. What do you think? Want me to choose a name for you?”

 

Predictably, the dog did not react to her babbling. Maria shook her head, amused. “I guess you aren’t secretly listening, after all. I’m going to go ahead and pick something out anyway. No one’s around to stop me.”

 

The dog tugged at the leash and Maria picked up her pace. She was pretty sure there was a leash-free dog park somewhere nearby, if she could find it… Oh! There it was. Maria turned and led the dog to the entrance. These places were free, right? Nobody was charging admission, so she figured it was fine to go in. Hopefully no one would be able to tell that she had no idea what she was doing here.

 

She could have laughed at herself. Potential danger, no problem. Send her into armed conflict, and she would hardly break a sweat. Yet give her a dog and send her to the park, and her palms were damp and composure broken. Maria wanted to blame it on her sickness, but she hadn’t felt sick since she’d called Fury. She felt a momentary pang of guilt for her inadvertent deception. Then the dog yanked her forward again and the feeling passed.

 

“C’mere, let’s get this off,” Maria murmured, kneeling to unclip the dog’s leash. It resisted her for a few seconds as she tried to discern how the clasp worked, and then it slid open to release the dog. She bounded away for a few steps at a time, circling back every now and then to see if Maria was following.

 

“Excuse me. Is that your dog?” A woman who could have been alive before Captain America was pointing accusingly at the dog.

 

“Yes. No. I mean,” Maria stammered, feeling foolish, “I’m the one who brought her here. I don’t own her, I’m sort of… borrowing her. Is there a problem?”

 

“Yes, there’s a problem!” The old woman glared at her. “That creature is running amok. Put that leash in your hand  _ back on _ . Right. Now.”

 

“Oh, I’m so sorry. I thought this was a leash-free park, I’ll just--” Maria gestured helplessly after the dog, which was meant to suggest that she was about to go after her. Instead of being mollified, the woman swelled with indignation.

 

“How dare you! I did not ask to be disrespected by your sarcasm!”

 

“I didn’t, I wasn’t,” Maria tried to explain, but the woman spoke over her.

 

“If you and your mongrel are not gone within ten minutes I will call the police, do you hear?”

 

Maria blinked. “Yes, ma’am. I’ll be out by then, you have my word.”

 

“Pah!” said the woman, shuffling away.

 

The dog, when Maria looked around, was already nearing another side entrance to the park. Maria hurried toward her before she could get out. “Who left this gate open?” she said, closing it in front of the dog. “Hey! Get back here!”

 

The dog was already off again. Unleashed, she was gone in a flash. “What happened to sticking close to me?” Maria said, more to herself than to the dog, who wasn’t listening or even close enough to hear. “So much for our supposed bond, huh.”

 

Sighing, she took off at a jog to try to catch the dog. She only had ten minutes, after all. It was doubtful that the police would actually come for something like this--  _ Oh no _ , Maria thought dryly,  _ an unleashed dog in a leash-free park? What has the world come to these days? Hm, there’s the sarcasm she thought she heard _ \-- but she didn’t want to chance finding out. Besides, the dog had probably had enough exercise for now, anyway. The vet’s office would be wanting her back.

 

“Here, girl,” she called, wishing she had a name the dog would respond to. “Come here, dog.”

 

Some passing jogger gave her a scandalized look, like he was judging her for not having given her dog a name.  _ She’s not mine _ , Maria wanted to yell after him, but there was no point, and she didn’t owe anyone an explanation of her (admittedly weird) behavior. She wasn’t reporting to anyone for this. This was her day off.

 

So why was she doing more running now than she had in the last week of work? Working with SHIELD was exciting, usually, but recently it had been more paperwork than explosions. Obviously, this was mostly a good thing, but Maria had been getting restless without becoming aware of it. The most action she had seen in nearly a month was when she’d met the dog.

 

Speaking of which… the dog was still ahead of her, now weaving between bystanders and almost knocking several people over. Maria started up a constant chant that went something along the lines of, “Sorry, excuse me, coming through, excuse me, that’s my dog, I’m so sorry, I’ll pay for that, sorry, excuse me,” and kept it up as she followed the dog through the park.

 

The adrenaline high was starting to kick in. Who knew the dog would be such a fast runner? Maria clutched at the leash crumpled in one hand a little tighter, to make sure she wouldn’t lose it while running, and sped up. She could sprint for a little while, just enough to reach the dog… She was almost there… Her hand grasped at the fur of the dog’s neck and pulled them both to a stop.

 

“You,” Maria told the dog, who started trying to lick her face as she sat down next to her, “are a very good running partner. And now it’s time to go back.”

 

She clipped the leash back onto the collar the vet had given her and stood. “Here’s hoping no one’s called the police on us,” she said, dusting herself off. “I would hate to have to flash my credentials while I’m not on duty, it would be so awkward.”

 

Dr. Artair accepted the leash with a raised eyebrow. “How did it go?”

 

“Great,” said Maria. “Really great. We went to the dog park, didn’t we...?”

 

She trailed off, staring at the dog, and then made a frustrated noise. She’d been hoping that a name would come to her, but nothing seemed right. Maria glanced at Dr. Artair, whose brow was furrowed, and tried to explain. The vet nodded.

 

“It’ll happen. You’ll know it when it does. We get this all the time with adoptees, but they all get named in the end!” Dr. Artair scratched at the dog absently, smiling at Maria.

 

“But she’s not an adoptee,” Maria pointed out. “Not yet, anyway. But you haven’t heard from anyone looking for her, have you?”

 

“Nothing.” Dr. Artair shook her head. “And to be frank, it doesn’t seem likely that we will. From the state she was in when you brought her in, I’d be very surprised if she even remembered a previous owner. She was left in the wild for a long time. It’s surprising how friendly she is, actually. Most wild dogs-- or, well, abandoned housepets at least-- they tend to lose their people skills pretty quickly, but she’s definitely made one friend very quickly.”

 

Maria looked at the dog. At that moment, she was scratching herself with her hind leg. She looked tuckered out from the run they’d had together.  _ You and me both, _ Maria thought, but it was with fondness.

 

“So…” Maria’s mind was skipping ahead, extrapolating from their conversation what the next step could be. “What are you saying? You’re not expecting anyone to come for her, so you’re skipping the waiting stage and sending her straight to the pound?”

 

“Hey now, nobody said anything about that.” Dr. Artair looked alarmed at the suggestion. “The protocols must be observed. There’s a reason they were put into place, after all.”

 

“It’s like I’m back at work,” Maria said. The vet laughed. “Then you’ll be keeping her here? For how much longer?”

 

“At least another few days, maybe even up to a week. Once we’ve had her in custody for a week, it’s down to the discretion of the individual office to make the decision. Personally, I’d like to say that I would be glad to see you adopt--”

 

“No, I couldn’t,” said Maria.

 

Dr. Artair shrugged. “If you insist. Still, you know where to find her. Thank you for exercising her today. I’m sure the interns will appreciate one less dog to walk. Especially this one! She’s a handful, isn’t she? Aren’t you, girl?”

 

The dog thumped her tail. Maria’s heart squeezed. “Okay, so I’ll see you tomorrow?”

 

Dr. Artair looked away from the dog to meet Maria’s eyes. “Tomorrow?”

 

“Won’t she need to be walked again?” Maria hesitated. “If you don’t--”

 

“Oh, I would love for you to take her out again, you’ve done such a wonderful job today! I was only wondering about your job? Your actual job, I mean. You said you work at an office, won’t they be missing you? Or do you have off again?”

 

Maria paused. She’d forgotten about SHIELD totally. She couldn’t recall the last time she hadn’t been focused entirely on the next mission. It was good to have a day off, she decided. But what about tomorrow?

 

“Maybe after work? If she still needs to be walked. I’ll be available sometime next evening, if that works with you.”

 

Dr. Artair pulled out her phone and typed something in. “Excellent. I’ll make a note of it. And try to think of a name for next time!”

 

“Paperwork and now homework?” Maria said with a grimace. “Forgive me if I wince, doctor.”

 

“Oh, call me Jenny, please. Have a great night, Miss Hill.”

 

***

 

Maria had another load of paperwork to get through, but she didn’t care. Her mind remained in the park, running after the nameless dog. Twice already she had nearly given in and opened a pet names website, but both times she had resisted. Not while she was on the clock, she’d told herself, and counted down the hours and then the minutes and then she was finally out.

 

Jenny greeted her with a smile and a leash in an outstretched hand. The dog was already waiting for her. “Did you find a name you liked?”

 

Maria shook her head regretfully. “Not yet. I’ll get one eventually.” What she didn’t say was that she was beginning to get nervous that the dog would be claimed by her real owner before she, Maria, could think of a good name, and then the opportunity would be gone. She wouldn’t voice this, though, because Jenny would just reassure her that the dog’s owner probably wasn’t coming. And she didn’t want to think about that, since it made her feel too many complicated emotions.

 

On the one hand, that would mean that the dog was available. She wasn’t planning on adopting, but… She had to admit she was starting to see the appeal. Yet on the other hand Maria didn’t want to confront the positive reaction she was having to the possibility of a scenario that could result in the dog’s heart being broken. What kind of person would it make her to know that she could be happy knowing that the dog was sad?

 

Or maybe she was overthinking it. Jenny had said that the dog might not even remember a previous owner; if that was true, if she were right, then it wouldn’t make any difference to her if an owner never came to pick her up. And that meant Maria could enjoy her company without these useless shameful, guilty feelings.

 

This time, at the park, Maria kept the leash on the dog. “We’re going to run together today. You got that? Don’t pull me over, or steer me into anyone. You behave yourself.”

 

The dog wagged her tail and nearly tripped a business man passing them. “Sorry!” Maria called. He gave her a dirty look, and she shrugged. “It’s a dog park. Why is he walking through a dog park in a suit?”

 

Their run was shorter than Maria would have liked, but it was getting dark already and she didn’t want to be out too late. Besides, she didn’t know what time the vet’s office would close at. She turned back to return the dog.

 

As it turned out, the office  _ was  _ closed. Maria stood outside, holding a leash in one hand and her phone in the other. But who would she call? She didn’t have Jenny’s number. She was stuck with the dog for the night, it would seem. Possibly she could return her in the morning.

 

What was the apartment policy on pets? Maria had never had occasion to find out. She couldn’t recall ever seeing anyone else in the building with a dog, which didn’t bode well. She drove them back to her place while she tried to figure out what to do. In the end, she decided there was nothing for it: she would have to sneak the dog in, and at some point she would find out the actual rule. It was only for one night, she reasoned. It couldn’t be that big of a deal.

 

“Shh,” she hissed at the dog, who had started barking when she’d opened the car door. “You’re usually so quiet. I need you to be really, really quiet tonight, okay?”

 

The dog settled down and stared at Maria with wide eyes, panting.

 

“Okay. Good. Better. Let’s go.”

 

Sneaking a dog into an apartment was almost absurdly easy. Maria took the stairs rather than the more frequented elevator, and the dog didn’t make too much noise, so they made it to her place without being caught. Which was a relief, because if a SHIELD agent had been busted by her landlord… Well. Nick would never let her live it down.

 

Once inside, Maria looked around. Strangely enough, she didn’t happen to have a spare dog bed lying around. But the dog wasn’t waiting for her to figure something out; she went straight to Maria’s bed, curled up on the end, and was asleep in seconds. Clearly, she wasn’t going to be moved. Their sleeping arrangements had been decided upon.

 

Maria changed into her pajamas and climbed into bed, careful not to dislodge the sleeping dog. She curled up herself, subconsciously mirroring the dog’s pose, and realized that their breathing was falling into sync. The slight drone of the dog’s snores was weirdly soothing. Maria was asleep in moments. She dreamed of warmth and companionship, and woke up to a friendly face. It was just what she had never realized she was missing.

 

***

 

“How was last night? I’m sorry for the inconvenience, I didn’t have any way to contact you--”

 

“It was fine. More than fine, actually. Could I adopt Sadie?” Maria blurted. Jenny’s face lit up.

 

“You named her!”

 

Maria pet the dog, who was sitting patiently next to her. “Yes. And I was wondering if Sadie was up for adoption yet, or if you’re still waiting.”

 

“Well, I don’t really see much point to holding onto her when she’s clearly found a home with you. Sadie will need a final checkup to make sure she’s received all proper medical attention and then you can tackle the worst part of all this.”

 

“What’s that?” Finding out how her landlord felt about this? Checking the price of dog food at the store? Waiting to see if Sadie’s first owner would return to fight for her? At the thought, Maria’s stomach clenched. Last night, gazing down at the warm lump by her feet, she thought she’d finally found something to fill the gap. Sadie was all she wanted right now. She couldn’t bear the idea of parting with her, which was funny, because they’d only met-- what was it, three days ago? But Maria was sure about Sadie. She’d overcome whatever Jenny would tell her. What was this next challenge?

 

“Paperwork.”

**Author's Note:**

> Written for the Marvel Writing Challenge of this week. My longest oneshot to date, so please let me know what you thought!


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